Hieroglyphics in a Bottle
by Blue Zombie
Summary: season 2 craig dealing with the differences between his father and joey
1. Chapter 1

"Have you been drinking?" Craig said, but he knew Sean had been drinking. He could smell it.

"No. Yeah, well, a little. Hey, you wanna drink, too?"

Craig's eyes widened. He shouldn't. He wouldn't have, either, if he still lived with his dad. But he lived with Joey now.

"Why, you have some?" Craig said, lowering his voice. Sean could hardly hear him over the noise of the party.

"No, but look around, man. You think the Brookses don't have a stash of top shelf liquor?"

Craig's eyes darkened, thinking of his father's stash of top shelf liquor. Bombay Sapphire Gin, that square bottle, a baby blue. Dewar's vodka, aged scotch, hundred dollar bottles of wine. Thinking of how he had warned him to stay away from it. His father hadn't locked it up and he didn't need to. The threat of the belt was lock enough.

He shook his head, pushing the memories away.

"Uh, sure, why not?"

Sean smiled and headed over to the bar, glanced around for Jimmy. Jimmy's back was safely to them, and Sean grabbed a bottle, poured out half of his soda and Craig's, dumped in the alcohol.

"Here you go. Bottom's up,"

Craig smiled, took a sip, made a face. Sean laughed.

"Keep drinking. You won't mind the taste,"

Craig drank, and started to feel warm and happy, felt a lessoning of the tension that was always inside him. The knots were loosening. Before he knew it his bottle was empty. He snuck over to the bar, got some more. Looked around for Sean and saw him in the middle of the room with Emma. He headed toward him.

Sean held a bottle of liquor and dropped it, it smashed into broken bits of glass and alcohol spreading on the hardwood floor.

"Is this what you do?" Jimmy said, suddenly in between them, "steal liquor from my parents' house?"

Jimmy's brow furrowed in anger, and Craig saw Ashley beyond him all dressed in black. She was so pretty.

"Have you been drinking, too?" Jimmy said, turning on him. Craig swallowed hard.

"Uh, no…I-"

"Yes, you have. You're drunk, too. Get out, both of you. Just get out,"

"C'mon," Sean said, grabbing his arm, pulling him with them. Emma trailed behind them.

Outside, sitting on the bench by the parking lot, the night air cool and wet, the world spinning. Emma took out her phone.

"Who're you calling?" Craig said, and Sean noticed the almost terror in his voice, the fear in his eyes.

"My mom," Emma said.

"No," Craig said.

"Why?" Emma said, peering at him. He stood up and paced, ran his hand through his hair, making his bangs stand up.

"No, she'll tell Joey I'm drunk, I can't, he can't know,"

Emma and Sean just stared at him.

"I can't go home," Craig said, and started walking away.

"Hey, man, where are you going?" Sean said, catching up to him.

"I don't know. But I'm not gonna be here when Emma's mom shows up,"

"Craig, she won't be mad. She'll drive you home," Emma said.

"No! Joey can't know I'm drinking or he'll.."

"He'll what?" Sean said, steering him back to the bench. Drunk, Craig's eyes filled with tears and spilled over.

"He'll what?" Sean said again.

"He'll hit me…" his chest hitched and he turned away.

"Craig, Joey doesn't hit you, does he?" Emma said, trying to get him to look at her. He wiped the tears with the back of his hand.

"No," he said.

"Listen, he'll probably be mad. Maybe he'll ground you or something, but he's not going to hurt you," Emma said, her voice patient.

"How…how do you know? I'm drunk and he said not to drink, not to even think about touching the liquor cabinet, he said…"

"Who? Joey said that?" Emma said.

"No, my dad. And he'll, Joey might get mad enough to, to have to hit me,"

"Craig, no. Look, Joey isn't like your dad. Okay? He won't hit you no matter what you do. Not everyone is like your dad was,"


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, it made sense to him, what Emma was saying. Joey wasn't his dad. He knew that. But he could tell him, he could get him in trouble. He ran his hands through his hair again, got up from the bench and started to walk away. Sean grabbed his arm.

"Craig,"

He shrugged violently out of his grasp.

"No, Sean, I'm not staying. See ya,"

Emma and Sean watched him go, watched him turn the corner and disappear behind the buildings.

"Should we go after him?" Emma said, her phone flipped open, the blue light reflecting on her face. Sean squinted in the direction Craig had gone.

"No, it won't do any good. He'll come back eventually," Sean shrugged, but still looked worried.

"Jeez, he's screwed up, huh?" Emma said, shivering in the wind that had suddenly picked up.

"Yeah,"

She called her mom and explained that she needed a ride, then flipped the phone shut and slipped it back into her pocket. Sean hugged himself on the bench, rocking slightly. Everything looked blurry, smeary, the lights all long streaks of color. The sounds of the cars were too loud, the squeal of the tires on the road making his head ache.

In the car, Christine's face carefully neutral regarding Sean being drunk, she had one hand on the wheel. Sean couldn't bring himself to look at her. She dropped him off, reassured him that she wasn't angry, but he walked to his front door with his head down. Emma watched him, watched the way he stumbled but somehow kept his balance, watched him fumble with his key, and then they were pulling away.

"Mom, Craig's been drinking, too,"

"Joey's step-son?"

"Yeah. He got kicked out of the party when Sean did, but he wouldn't wait for a ride with us. He's afraid of Joey finding out he was drinking,"

"Oh. Poor kid. But Joey will be worried, I mean, he's just planning on being out all night?"

"I don't know. He's like afraid that Joey will hit him or something, cause his dad used to,"

"Oh,"

"We should tell Joey, right? I mean, we should tell him," Emma said, peering at her mother.

"Yeah, right. Of course we should,"

00.…0000.….000.……0000.…….000.….

Joey cleared his throat, shivered, looked up at the building Jimmy lived in. Luxury apartments. What the hell did that kid's parents do? Lawyers? Doctors? Who knew. He figured Jimmy's building was a good place to start. He had Emma camping out at his house, watching Angie. Déjà vu, out on the Toronto streets again looking for Craig. Stars twinkling above him here and there, the extra bright ones he could see through the ambient light.

He shivered, ran a hand along the slight fuzz of hair on his head. Blinked against the cold. How would he ever find this kid again? They were too far from the cemetery. No luck here. He got back into his little red car, candy apple red, and it wasn't a mid-life crisis purchase. He didn't believe in mid-life crisis. Didn't have time for one, either, not with the responsibilities of Julia's oldest child suddenly thrust upon him.

Driving slow, gawking at the random teenagers and young adults he came across, and they always revealed themselves to not be Craig once he got up close, close enough to discern their features. Hugging the curb, crawling along, his anxiety growing. Anything could happen to him out here. He could get mugged, hurt, something, anything. He drove slow, down one street and then another. No luck. No dice. Then the park, dark and unlit at night, the benches scattered about, all of them painted a dark green. On one a figure, laying down, knees bent slightly, head tucked down, shivering. From here it looked like it could be Craig. Joey prayed silently that it was. A wish, a prayer, a chant, anything that would work. A magic spell. Just let it be him.

He parked the car and got out, walking slow and quietly so if it was Craig he wouldn't bolt before he could get to him. Curly hair, long limbs, the clothes he left in when he went to school. Thank God. Joey crept up on him, and he could smell the alcohol that he had drank. Craig was asleep, shivering, his hands thrust between his knees. Joey touched his shoulder and said his name.

"Craig,"

Craig bolted awake and looked at him uncomprehending for a second and then he flinched away, pulled into himself.

"Joey," he said, breathless, and he was still moving away from him. Joey reached out and took hold of the sleeve of his jacket, felt Craig's muscles stiffen.

"Hey, what are you doing out here?" He said it softly, without anger, but he still held onto his sleeve.

"N-nothing,"

"Nothing? Craig, do you realize that it's dangerous to be out here like this? C'mon, let's go home," Soft voice, soft look, trying to soothe.

"You're not mad?" Craig said, still trying to pull away, still tense, fear in his eyes.

"No, I'm not. I just want you to be safe. You can always come home, no matter what. Okay?"

Craig looked at him, and something seemed to ease, and he nodded.

"Yeah, okay,"


End file.
